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Magic gone in a flash

August 15, 2004|By Mike Lubow.

You're in Italy, on a cliff overlooking the sea. The place is serene, like an oil painting. And it could be spoiled in the time it takes to read this. Just watch: It's an old monastery, something the guidebook recommended. You were dubious. But when you got there, it really was like a painting, and you were in it. Olive trees. A whitewashed building in sunshine. Rows of flowers. The humming of bees. An old lady in a black shawl sitting in an ancient rocking chair; an essential part of the art.

You're alone. For a minute, it's quiet--except for the bees. Then, comes a tour bus with air brakes and tourists. Tourists, suddenly everywhere. Taking pictures of each other, blocking out the sea, destroying the quiet. The lady in black is gone. You wonder, was she ever there? And you notice that you don't hear the bees. You hear people laughing, but they'll never know about the bees.